ABSTRACT
From D. H. Lawrence, The Man Who Died
“I serve Isis in search,” she replied.
He looked at her. She was like a soft musing cloud, somehow remote. His soul smote him with passion and compassion.
“Mayst thou find thy desire, maiden,” he said, with sudden earnestness.
“And art thou not Osiris?” she asked.
He flushed suddenly.
“Yes, if thou wilt heal me!” he said. “For the death aloofness is upon me, and I cannot escape it.”
